In the Stars (1.5.20)

In the Stars
Matthew 2.1-12
Epiphany (observed)
January 5, 2019
Rev. Elizabeth Mangham Lott
St. Charles Ave. Baptist Church

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 
“And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
   are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
   who is to shepherd my people Israel.” 

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

Matthew 2.1-12

They didn't quite know what they were looking for, but they knew it was something big. The star was bigger and brighter than the others, and it was steadily moving across the sky. They spent their evenings looking up, making notes on their charts, and tracking the changes and patterns they saw. No one was better at reading the skies, and no one more trusted. That’s why they spent their mornings advising the powerful ruling class of possible outcomes based on their studies. The advice ranged from best and worst time to make personal decisions to predictions of war and threats to the empire. The kings always tended to grab onto these advisors because their counsel came with a boost of confidence in a leadership governed by the heavens. If the very stars themselves were for you, it seemed, then who could be against you? The powerful ruling class has always been keenly sensitive to such matters.

The magi waited days before they collaborated on the report. They needed to be certain that this star really was moving and not fixed in place. They consulted charts from previous years and couldn’t find one that matched it anywhere, so not only was it moving but it was new. Given its size, pace, and placement, they came to the unanimous decision that something tremendous was taking place. Everything within their bodies vibrated with a knowing. Before they spoke the words to one another, each man knew that something was being ushered in by the universe itself that would change everything. Even the skies were marking the birth of this cosmic shift, and it was happening to the west. At last, they met to discuss their theories and all agreed: a new king was being born, and this king would eventually replace one who had the answers they sought. 

A new king couldn’t be born without the old king already knowing, they reasoned, and so they set off with their charts and a bag of suitably royal gifts as they searched for the story the star was telling. Before long, their westward travels and frequent questions of local officials led them to King Herod. Surely King Herod already knew the baby because such an announcement was far too important to take place beyond his purview. Though not royals themselves, they remained confident in what they’d seen in the sky, and felt certain Herod would send them directly to wherever the new king was being born. It was their duty to welcome the birth of immense transformation, and no king would deny them the honor of participating in such a welcome. 

Word of their questions reached Herod’s throne room before the magi did, and he was in an absolute panic. His own advisors had not warned him of any birth, and there was no one in his family giving birth to any royal babies. If the traveling stargazers were right, this birth was an end to his power and a threat to his comfort. Rulers like Herod have never reacted well to an end to their power or a threat to their comfort. And so he called for them as he devised a plan for the child’s destruction. Rulers like Herod have never been known by history for their level-headed, right-sized reactions.

After meeting with King Herod, the magi were rather shocked that he didn’t have much information to help them and agreed something seemed off about his detached awareness and chilly response. However, they were validated by their star charts when he sent them to Bethlehem, and that was enough encouragement to continue on in their search. Besides, they felt honored to be part of what was now a royal convoy on behalf of King Herod himself, bringing greetings to this star-lit newborn.

One night shortly after, the star changed its pattern. The path seemed to stop and hover over a spot in a way it hadn’t before. There was a breath to it, a pulsing. The hovering felt like blessing and was as sure a sign as anything the men had ever seen in their lives. When they stopped in the place where it lingered, they were baffled. All they saw was a modest door on a very small home. The overwhelming joy they’d felt moments ago gave way to confusion and doubt. Had they traveled all the way only to be wrong? But they clung to the certainty they’d known even if they didn’t feel it now, and they knocked on the simple, wooden door.

The men were utterly unprepared for what they found beyond it. A young couple of little means. A smiling baby dressed in clothes that were likely made by the mother who held him. There was nothing royal or powerful about these three, and yet…it was as though they could feel the star still hovering over that space, still pulsing its blessing of rightness. And in unison, as they inhaled and exhaled, the truth of what was happening overcame them. This was a birth even more extraordinary than they’d imagined. It sounded crazy to say it out loud, but they whispered together and agreed, somehow the strongest divine pulse of the entire universe was right there in that room and right there in that baby. They fumbled in their bags and offered the gifts they’d prepared, perhaps not as appropriate now that they knelt in the presence of something for which they simply did not have words to explain. Poets and artists would try to capture what they felt that night. Scholars would overanalyze and altogether miss its essence. Twitter preachers would want us to mention that they magi were quite likely Zoroastrians from Iran. None of those words and facts and conjectures could ever hope to describe the moment when the men knelt in that place. A holy knowing would guide them far away from Herod, all the way back home, and ultimately for the rest of their lives. You cannot kneel in the presence of that kind of holiness without remembering it forever in your bones.

Dreams warned and guided them all, and the family hid in Egypt for years to avoid Herod’s wrath. They finally returned home with their son, and he grew older and wiser in ways his parents didn’t fully expect. Even with angels and promises directly from God, their human experiences simply limited their imaginations and couldn’t allow them to grasp the goodness God was plotting.

We rational, cerebral people want to make sense of all this with scholarship and academic interpretation. We want to add modern science, archeology, and historical analysis to the texts and explain away the mystery of them. But the invitation of Epiphany is to let go of all of that and release our need to be so literal with the texts before us. What is being described isn’t rational. It isn’t academic. The invitation is to pay attention to that hovering presence and the myriad forms it takes. The invitation is to feel the power of that naming, knowing, seeing, creating, protecting, sending Spirit and welcome its guidance into our ordinary lives. The invitation is to feel the presence of that kind of holiness surrounding you and remember it forever beyond words. God is with us. God is guiding us. God is moving and inviting and compelling us to wake up to our lives in ways we absolutely cannot imagine or articulate. 

Alan Brehm puts it like this, “Though we really don’t know much what to make of the season of Epiphany, in a very real sense, everything about our faith is a part of the celebration of Epiphany.  Literally it means ‘revealing,’ it is a taking away of the veil that covers something.  Epiphany is about unveiling what Advent promises: that ‘all flesh shall see the salvation of God’ (Lk. 3:6); that ‘the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together’ (Isaiah 40:5).  During this time of year, we read stories from Jesus’ life that show how Jesus revealed that he truly was the light that was coming into the darkness. That’s why we celebrate Epiphany--it’s a time to remind ourselves that in him a light has dawned that will never go out--a light of faith, and hope, and joy that shines in all the kinds of darkness that can afflict this world.”

Well, we know something about the kinds of darkness that can afflict this world. And maybe you’re as concerned as I am right now about what could be looming because history books and sacred texts have told us what happens when men like Herod become threatened. In the days and weeks to come, we may feel compelled to act in public ways to stand against the kinds of darkness that can afflict this world. But for today, we MUST and we WILL bask in the truth of this season—the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot and will not overcome it. In Epiphany, we sense the Presence we might know in our bones without words on our lips. Here, we encounter the guiding force of God that vibrates within us and leads us out even before we know precisely where we are going or what will come next.

And if all of that feels like way too much to accept much less embody, then we are wise to hear the words of artist and poet Jan Richardson as she ably welcomes us and blesses us into this season with her words, Blessing of the Magi.

There is no reversing
this road.
The path that bore you here
goes in one direction only,
every step drawing you
down a way
by which you will not
return.

You thought arrival
was everything,
that your entire journey
ended with kneeling
in the place
you had spent all
to find.

When you laid down
your gift,
release came with such ease,
your treasure tumbling
from your hands
in awe and
benediction.

Now the knowledge
of your leaving
comes like a stone laid
over your heart,
the familiar path closed
and not even the solace
of a star
to guide your way.

You will set out in fear
you will set out in dream

but you will set out

by that other road
that lies in shadow
and in dark.

We cannot show you
the route that will
take you home;
that way is yours
and will be found
in the walking.

But we tell you
you will wonder
at how the light you thought
you had left behind
goes with you,
spilling from
your empty hands,
shimmering beneath
your homeward feet,
illuminating the road
with every step
you take.